


We Are

by carlynroth



Series: Let the Mountains Move You [3]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Endgame Fix-It, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Love, Making Love, Post-Endgame, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 19:20:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12394512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carlynroth/pseuds/carlynroth
Summary: When the mission through the transwarp hub is completed, and the debriefings are done, Kathryn is finally free to love without conflict over duty.Clean version posted on FanFiction.Net.





	We Are

**Author's Note:**

> “Night will keep the secrets we are making. We have come here for the taking. And I’m free… For I am mine, and you are mine. And we are.”  
> —‘Venus’ by Joy Williams

Stars.

They seem so different now that she is looking up at them rather than out.

“It’ll take some getting used to,” says a gruff voice as footsteps approach her from behind, “but you’ll adjust soon enough.”

Kathryn turns away from the balcony railing and smiles at her former mentor. “Admiral Paris.”

“Hello, Katie,” he replies, returning her smile. “It’s good to finally see you in person. Welcome home.”

“Thank you, Owen. I presume you had a chance to meet the newest member of your family, now that all the debriefings are complete?”

Owen’s smile broadens, lighting up his weathered face. “Yes, I did. She is as lovely as her mother.”

“She certainly is. How is the rest of the family?”

“Julia is beside herself. She wants Thomas and B’Elanna to live at home with us for a while, but I don’t think they’re very keen on the idea. I’m sure they just want some time away to be with Miral.” His eyes wander towards the ballroom, likely seeking out his wife somewhere inside.

When Kathryn follows the direction of his stare, it is not a member of the Paris family that she sees; it is her former first officer.

Chakotay is deep in conversation with Admiral Nechayev, and Kathryn cannot help the crooked upward curl of her lips as she watches him animatedly make his point. Anyone else might think they are arguing about the ethics of rebellion, but Kathryn suspects their disagreement may actually be over how to properly season mushroom soup.

“You know, Katie,” Owen’s voice breaks into her thoughts, “when Julia and I first met, it seemed like a bad idea from the start. I was nine years her senior, and a superior officer to boot; I fought my feelings for a long time. I was so sure that I had a duty to do the upstanding thing, and in any other situation I would have been right. But with her, it was different.”

Kathryn looks at him warily. “Why?”

“I loved her in a way that I had never experienced before, nor have I ever come across anywhere else.” Owen returns his gaze to her with knowing eyes. “Something tells me you’re in a similar situation now.”

Kathryn huffs a laugh. “Is that something called Tom Paris?”

Owen is unaffected by her joke. “You fought the good fight. Stood by your principles against impossible odds. I’m proud of you, Katie. This is exactly why I knew you belonged in command. But it gets lonely in that chair. And family... family is important.” He sighs, dropping his eyes briefly to the floor. “Perhaps even more important than strict adherence to the rules.”

Kathryn gives him a sly smile. “Since when did you become a proponent of bending the rules?”

“Since I started listening to Julia again, like I used to when we were young together. Now, I’m not sure why I ever stopped.” Casting a glance at the ballroom, he quietly muses, “Thomas is so much like his mother.” Then, his eyes move back to Kathryn. “But he didn’t have to tell me anything. It’s written all over your face, and your commander’s. You have been given a chance, Katie. Don’t miss it.”

* * *

A few minutes after Owen’s departure, Kathryn feels a large hand come to rest at the small of her back. She smiles to herself.

“I was starting to think that Alynna would never let you get away,” she teases, turning into Chakotay’s touch.

His dimples emerge with a grin at her playful remark. “I was thinking the same thing, but then Admiral Paris came to my rescue.” His free hand finds hers and touches it to his lips, making her breath catch on an inhale. “He was worried about you.”

“I see. And he sent you to take care of me?”

Their fingers weave together. “Something like that.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to go against the wishes of a superior officer.”

His eyes darken. “No, we wouldn’t. Although I might need to have a word with Lieutenant Paris about keeping things in confidence.”

A gentle chuckle escapes from Kathryn’s lips, and she shakes her head. “It wasn’t him. Apparently, Owen has made a few observations of his own.”

Chakotay’s eyebrows jump. “Oh?”

“He thinks I’m still avoiding you. And I don’t think he knows anything about your relationship with Seven, as he seemed convinced that you only had eyes for me.”

“I do only have eyes for you,” he murmurs, and it makes her heart beat faster. “Besides, he has read all of the senior officers’ logs pertaining to our final mission, as well as the logs that Admiral Janeway left behind. He knows.”

Kathryn’s eyebrows twist together. “Then I don’t understand. We didn’t decide on anything until after the mission ended. Have you spoken with him since then?”

Chakotay shakes his head. “No. I’ve been as tied up in debriefings as you have. But, Seven and Harry weren’t exactly subtle about their intentions when they took off a few minutes ago. I doubt it was hard for him to put the pieces together.”

Now it is Kathryn’s turn for surprise. “Really? Seven and Harry?”

“About time, don’t you think?”

Kathryn’s gaze flicks over to the railing, where their joined hands have come to rest. “I have to say, I’m relieved. I know you told me that Seven took it well when you ended things with her, but she’s not always forthcoming with her deeper feelings. I’ve been worried about her.”

“Kathryn,” Chakotay murmurs, bringing her attention back to his face. “To be honest, I was concerned at first, too. But she and I had a good talk earlier today. She isn’t hurt or upset at all. And she genuinely wishes us well.”

“Really?”

His thumb strokes the side of her hand. “Really.”

Kathryn lets out a breath, and then shakes her head. “I still can’t believe that my counterpart lied like that.”

Chakotay’s eyes dance with amusement as they watch her. “Oh, I can.”

“What is that supposed to mean, Commander?”

“Just that she was you once, and she knew how to push both of our buttons. I can’t say that I disagree with what she did—” his free hand moves to touch her face, fingertips trickling down the side like water “—considering the results.”

Kathryn’s eyelids fall as she tilts her head into his touch. Still, an active part of her mind recalls her fight with Chakotay on the night he found out about her feelings. She thinks of how hollow she felt when he left. It isn’t hard for her to imagine how it must have affected the admiral to hold Chakotay during his final moments; in that timeline, she had shattered his heart so completely that they both ended up alone.

And then he had died, leaving her even more alone.

Kathryn shivers at that thought—all those years without him beside her—but the comforting warmth of Chakotay’s soft mouth pressing onto hers chases the darkness away. The debriefs are finished, the last journalist left a half-hour ago, and they have been given an admiral’s blessing. Finally, she is free to love him as she has wanted to for so long.

Let the whole ballroom watch. It doesn’t matter anymore.

When Chakotay breaks the kiss and leans his forehead against hers, Kathryn darts her tongue along her tingling lower lip. “Do you know what I think, Chakotay?”

“No, but I’d like to.”

She curls one corner of her mouth upward. “I think I’m ready to go home. And I think I’d like for you to join me.”

He hums approvingly and teases, “It’s about time.”

* * *

They barely make it through the apartment door before they collide. Emotions churn like lava, ready to erupt. Their jackets slide to the floor. Kathryn’s hands move for Chakotay’s pants, nearly ripping them open in her desperate need. She slips her hand into his boxers, fingers wrapping around his girth.

“Kathryn,” he groans against her mouth. Her bottom lip is caught between his teeth like a tangerine wedge about to be devoured.

With her free hand, Kathryn works at the elastic band of his boxers until they are out of the way. She feels her own pants whisper down her legs to pool at the floor, followed quickly by her panties. Soon, Chakotay’s fingers are curling wonderfully inside of her. Stepping backwards out of her clothes, she grasps the front of his shirt and drags him backwards towards the nearest surface—the kitchen counter.

When he realizes where she has led him, Chakotay pulls his mouth away from hers. “Kathryn,” he pants, looking earnestly into her eyes. “I wanted to go slowly... for you. I don’t know how long I can—“

“Later,” Kathryn murmurs before again taking his lips with hers. Pushing up onto her toes and wrapping her arms around Chakotay’s neck, she lifts herself to perch on the edge of the countertop. She coils her legs around his waist.

“Seven years,” she says, dragging her lips from his to bite at his earlobe. “Fuck me, Chakotay. Right now.”

“Is that an order, Captain?”

Kathryn growls in frustration at Chakotay’s teasing remark. He chooses that exact moment to make his move, driving himself into her body all the way up to the hilt. Her growl breaks off with a sudden cry.

“ _Jesusfuckingchrist_ , you feel good,” Chakotay groans. “Are you okay?”

“Never better,” comes Kathryn’s shuddering reply. Tightening her legs to bring him closer, she rocks her hips steadily against his. Chakotay moves in counterpoint, stroking methodically inside of her. Flexing her innermost muscles gives her a strong grip around his cock, bringing even more delicious friction.

Chakotay’s hands grasp the hem of her undershirt and tug the fabric over her head. He unhooks her bra, sliding the straps from her shoulders. His hands, strong and deft, massage her breasts until her nipples are painfully hard.

Then, it is his mouth.

Kathryn’s head falls back as she arches into the sensation of Chakotay’s tongue swirling around a taut nipple. Her fingers comb through his hair, pressing his head into her breasts. She grips hard on his shoulders as she grinds down on him.

Chakotay’s fingers slip between their fused bodies, pressing on her clitoris. An electric shock of pleasure radiates throughout Kathryn’s entire body, crackling along her nerves like circuits on the edge of an overload. It takes mere seconds for her to fall apart completely. As the orgasm overwhelms her, Chakotay grabs her hips and fucks her with rapid-fire strokes until his own ecstatic cries mingle with hers in the room.

When the aftershocks fade, Chakotay wraps his arms around Kathryn’s back and clutches her to his chest. Her arms circle around his neck as she leans in to rest her face against his shoulder.

“I love you, Kathryn,” he whispers into her ear, his hands running down her bare back like a slow-moving river. Then, before she has a chance to reply, he is repeating the words over and over again. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Smiling, she turns her face into the crook of his neck and whispers back, “I love you, too, Chakotay.”

“Can I take you to bed now?” he asks, lightness infusing his voice.

She laughs, a rich and throaty sound even when muffled by his skin. “Yes, you may.”

* * *

Before Kathryn reaches the bed, Chakotay halts her stride with an arm around her waist as he braces her from behind. He is wet with her.

She sucks in a sharp breath.

Pressing kisses to her neck and shoulders, Chakotay explores Kathryn’s body. His fingers lazily trace the protrusion of her collarbone, tease her nipples, count her ribs, massage her back, and caress her hips. They edge lower, fingertips combing gently through curls of hair. They map every crest and valley beneath until her legs become too shaky to support her.

Guiding Kathryn carefully onto the bed, Chakotay lowers his knees to the floor in front of her and nudges her dangling legs apart. He smiles up at her, hands sliding up to her thighs.

“Lay back,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her pubis. “Relax.”

Kathryn does as he asks, resting her hands above her head and closing her eyes. She sighs as he dusts her legs with kisses, caressing them with those strong, gentle hands. All of the tension in her body melts like snow beneath his heat, and her consciousness begins to tilt and drift away.

Then comes the pointed tip of his tongue, flicking just the right spot and snapping her senses to attention. The brief touch is followed by a gentle blow of air waking up every nerve ending along the layered lips of her labia. Her knees lift reflexively and she drapes them over Chakotay’s shoulders.

When he puts his lips on her, she arches off the bed.

Kathryn moans and writhes beneath Chakotay’s mouth, her fingers twisting into the sheets and gripping the far side of the mattress. His nimble tongue slithers between silky petals, meandering in and out and in again. His tongue curls around her clitoris, suckling as though drawing nectar from a flower. Were it not for Chakotay’s hands anchoring her hips to the mattress, Kathryn might launch herself right back into the stars.

Lights burst behind her eyelids when she comes.

Once Kathryn catches her breath, Chakotay helps her slide beneath the covers. Curling his body around hers, he presses tender kisses to her neck and shoulders. Soon, she drifts into a blissful, sated slumber.

* * *

Kathryn has no idea how long she has slept for, but she wakes up in a tangle of limbs. Velvet lips brush kisses across her breastbone and down her sternum.

Trailing fingertips along Chakotay’s muscular body, she teases the smooth head of his insistent erection. He moans into the valley between her breasts and thrusts into her hand.

She needs him pin her to the mattress and fuck her until she comes.

Rolling her hips against his, Kathryn moans when his shaft slips between sensitive folds of skin and weighs on top of her. Closing her eyes, she visualizes this in her mind—lips embracing Chakotay’s thick cock as it glides back and forth between rose petals of pink flesh.

Chakotay shifts his position ever-so-slightly so that the ridge of his cock rolls over her clitoris. The sensation burns up the image in her mind with a violent flash of light, and her throat tightens around a loud yelp.

“Did that feel good, Kathryn?” Chakotay asks, his voice a low purr.

“God, yes,” she pants.

His fingers move up his shaft to guide it over the same spot again, and Kathryn almost screams. Over and over, back and forth, slipping through viscous fluids welling up from within her body, he grinds deliciously hard against her.

Kathryn feels her climax gathering like the ocean just before breaking loose with powerful and destructive force. Her voice tumbles down over her lips, chanting lyrics that beseech him to rut harder, slide faster—“ _Like this?” “Just like that_ ”—before turning to repeated affirmations. “ _Yes, yes. Almost_...”

Then, there is light. It burns white—a flashing explosion that screams along her every tingling nerve and tears her to pieces. She is a bird of flame, rising from the ashes of duty and fear to fly once more into bliss.

As the heat begins to recede, the keening cry that she had unknowingly issued turns to a repetition of quiet mewls carried on the current of her breath. Her eyes open to find Chakotay smiling down at her, features colored with the depths of his love.

“Oh God,” she whispers.

“That good?” he asks, pride swelling in his voice.

“Oh, God,” is all she can reply.

Chakotay’s smile blossoms into a grin, punctuated with dimples that Kathryn has long loved in secret. She can’t help but smile back, and for a moment he is transfixed. His fingers trace her face. He bends to take her swollen lips with his, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He is still moving on top of her, stroking slowly against wet warmth.

As Chakotay withdraws between one stroke and the next, Kathryn arches her hips so that his erection drags along the ridge of her pelvic bone. He groans into her mouth and bucks against her, eliciting an involuntary moan from the back her throat.

Kathryn can’t remember the last time she truly made love with someone—or perhaps, she doesn’t want to. She knows that Chakotay will give himself away again and again just to bring her joy, but right now she wants to blend herself with him completely.

Breaking the kiss, she whispers, “I want you inside of me, Chakotay.”

She feels his cock twitch with a surge of blood, and he grins against her lips. “Yes, ma’am.” He draws back until his cock tips into her entry. “Is this what you want, Kathryn?”

“Yes, yes,” she whimpers.

Then, he is sheathing his firm flesh inside of her body and _oh god this is even better than the first time_. Her knees push up towards the ceiling, tilting her hips and pulling him deeper, deeper, until she feels the delicious pressure of his body against hers. Hooking her ankles behind his back, she grinds on his cock and moans loudly.

This man will be the death of her.

Her muscles flutter when Chakotay pulls back, quivering in the void left by his retreat. But he drives back into her, hard and fast, and she cries out again with pleasure. They move in tandem, finding their rhythm together.

As Kathryn’s muscles stretch and relax, her ankles slip apart and her knees pull closer to her chest. Chakotay pauses to drag a pillow from the head of the bed, and he slides it beneath her hips. Bringing her ankles up to rest on his shoulders, he resumes his cantering pace. One hand brushes down her leg, fingers seeking and then gently circling around her clit.

She is lost in a sea of sensations. And, she is found.

Kathryn’s body goes rigid when the full force of her orgasm crashes down, hips lifting off of the pillow as he continues to pound into her. The strength of her contractions pull him over the edge with her, and she milks his cock until he has nothing left.

When she lowers her feet to the bed, Chakotay collapses on top of her.

Kathryn feels his erection fading within her, but she wants badly to stay connected for as long as they can. She twines her arms and legs around him tightly, binding his spent body to hers, and presses open-mouthed kisses to his neck.

“Chakotay,” she whispers, calling him back to her. His arms wind around her body and squeeze her in response, and she can’t help but smile.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into her ear.

Kathryn chuckles lightly. She can’t recall ever before having someone thank her after sex, but in this moment she understands.

After so many years of holding back, and all of the times that she has broken his heart, she is finally allowing him to enter the sacred spaces of her body and her soul. She has alleviated his suffering from unrequited love of her. And for that, he is ineffably grateful.

So she hugs him even tighter and raises her lips to his ear. “I love you, Chakotay. I always have, and I always will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to MiaCooper for her expert beta skills!
> 
> I hope you have enjoyed my little venture into the Endgame Fix-It genre for these wonderful idiots in love.


End file.
